8:08am-8:28am
This morning, coughing up familiar red stuff, sneezing up strange orange-yellow stuff, of course I miss you. My windowsill is not big enough for two humans to share a black n' mild. Wood tip, passing slobber back and forth like ravenous dogs fighting over the final bone of a week old kill. I swallowed my headache and it hurt my throat for awhile. I drank a lot of tea, green, chamomile, roibous, and whatever makes up her sleepytime formula. And my sore throat crawled up to my nose, blocking passage of air with thick mucus. Secondary effect was that my gums hurt. Incredible soreness. It felt like my teeth were relocating themselves to different parts of my mouth on their own accord. I haven't, nor has an orthodontic surgeon, advised these movements. I had horrible visions of my teeth moving to the sides of my cheeks, roots and all. For the tooth to be removed I would have to have a chunk of my cheek removed with it. My jaw is sore from either the subtle movements of my teeth or from anxious grinding. Top and bottom like two pieces of sandpaper until a finely ground dust. Cough this up it gets to my eyes and now I have pink eye. Of course I miss you when I know you could alleviate most of these symptoms. My anxieties would diminish. I would get everything done I wanted to. Also a neck massage to reduce building tension, the tension that risks to explode my brain like a stack of dynamite. The pressure that builds the deeper towards the center of the earth you go. The pressure that reduces in the high Andes mountains of south america. The ones with the plane crash, cannibalism movie based in them. Always snow. Cocaine everywhere. Nose running red like high mountain river. Any slight movements in bed from my fat upstairs neighbor can be heard. Paper thin walls. A lot of things I'd rather not hear. Those lovebirds getting at it. What was your name again? Oh yeah. Cool. Put the bed half in the closet and a girl will grip the cross beam your nice shirts hang on and ride until all occupants of building complain about the noise. Heat up old coffee. Wipe the sleep dust out of my eyes. Turn on my brain. I dreamed about pastel colored houses and whirlpools. The creatures that hide 100 feet under a layer of ice. An ecosystem that has never experience the conditions of the world outside of their bubble. Americans wish to break through and discover, dying, the beautiful possibility of life down in these cold depths. There are creatures. Life will find a way. Or I dream about dying dogs and college kids who contemplate what type of folk song to write. Maybe this kid breaks up with his girlfriend and records a demo in time for a small concert at the same time. His vulnerability will be on display and after his set, in dark brooding complication, cute girls will come talk to him. I understand your songs, they speak to me. I fall in love with every girl who smiles at me. Hold your head up champ. These days are fantastic. You will look bad and sigh as you did not yet understand this fact. You are living a 20 year old dream. Many wish to be you now. And what's gotten into you? Do you understand that nearly 99% of the people you have ever known have to wear more than a t-shirt to be comfortable for their day? This is warm weather. It needs warm persona. Warm countenance. Warm aura. Don't mope. Sit and write, sure, but look happy at least. There is no time like now and fuck all that stuff about 'not fitting in'. This has been established. You will never fit in with the majority here. They are shallow and will never understand you. You are not superior though.... Find a comfortable niche where your anxiety disappears with time spent here. And time's up.
